


All Grown Up

by JohnlockRabbit



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Homophobia, M/M, Multi Chapter, conversion camps, im sorry this is probably going to get pretty depressing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5023756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnlockRabbit/pseuds/JohnlockRabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~Look at me now, I'm all grown up~</p><p>It starts in fifth grade, the feeling he can't explain, the feeling he shouldn't be feeling.<br/>After that everything is a blur of concerned parents, of sleepless nights and half open eyes. Nobody told him life was going to be like this. Nobody warned him of the dangers of existing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once Upon A Time

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about Connor, okay? Anyway, the title and chapter titles are references to bare: a pop opera because i am Trash.

Connor McKinley was eleven years old when he realised he was different.

This realisation came at his best friend's birthday party. Steve Blade and Connor were close, almost inseparable. Wherever Steve went, Connor could always be found close behind, trailing him like a small, redheaded shadow.

Steve's party was the kind typically thrown for  young boys. A cake was baked, party games were played and gifts were exchanged.

They were in the middle of a game of Blind Man's Bluff when Connor's first realisation came about. It was his turn to wear the blindfold. He tried and failed to catch his classmates, arms outstretched, hands groping through empty air as he stumbled forwards. Someone whisked themselves away from his grasp, their shirt slipping through his fingers.

"Can I take this off now? Please?" He asked, his hands moving towards his blindfold.

"No! Not until you catch us!" A small voice piped as someone slapped his hand away.

"Please?" He was on the verge of tears now.

And then, his searching hands found a face. He Stopped in disbelief, a surprised gasp escaping from his lips. Blindly, he grasped at the figure in front of him, desperate to be able to see again.

"You caught me." A gentle voice said as Connor's blindfold was slipped off, revealing his faceless saviour.

"Steve?"

"You win." Steve smiled before slipping the blindfold over his own eyes. "Look out everyone! Here I come!" He ran off, arms outstretched.

The rest of the party passed without incident, Steve kept a close eye on Connor, insisting that they blow out the candles on his birthday cake together, sharing the wish.

That was when it hit him. The Feeling.

It was a small feeling at first, and, for a long time, it wasn't a bad feeling. It felt like a small bubble of happiness that welled in his chest whenever Steve was around.

Connor never really thought much about that bubble, and never really thought that there could ever be anything _wrong_ with it. It wasn't something he ever questioned, he loved Steve. Steve who would share his lunch when Connor forgot his. Steve who would talk to Connor when nobody else would. Steve who soon became Connor's only friend.

Connor didn't understand his own sudden dip in popularity. He'd never been popular, but by the time he was halfway through fifth grade almost nobody would even look him in the eye. Steve told him not to worry about it, they were jerks anyway, he didn't need them.

But Connor did worry about it. He worried and worried until even his parents noticed that there was something wrong.

One night over dinner his mother, Jane McKinley, confronted him.

"Connor, honey." She said, "You've been so quiet recently. Is there something wrong?"

"I'm fine, thank you, Mom." Connor replied, shifting his attention to the empty plate in front of him.

"Sweetie." She reached across the table to touch his hand, stopping when he recoiled from her touch. "Are you having trouble at school?"

Connor didn't know quite what to say, so instead he gave a small shrug.

"Is someone being mean to you? Connor?"

"They're not being _mean_ to me." He muttered.

"What are they doing, then?" She asked soothingly.

"They're not doing anything, they just don't like me."

"And why's that?" Her tone was brisk, defensive.

"I- I don't know." Connor looked down at his hands, biting back tears.

"Oh come here, honey." Jane said, rising to come and crouch next to her son. "It's alright, I'll talk to the teacher and we'll sort this out together, okay?"

Connor nodded, drying his eyes and looking away from his mother's searching expression.

"At least Steve's my friend." He said morosely.

"Well... maybe you should try and make more friends, Connor." She said, handing him a tissue, "You can't just rely on one person."

"Yes I can!" He squeezed the tissue in his fist, "I don't really need any other friends if I have Steve, anyway."

Jane sighed, averting her eyes from her son. "Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to have backups."

"Why would I need a backup?" He questioned.

"Nevermind, nevermind." She stood up and started clearing plates away. "I'll talk to some parents, I'll talk to the teachers, things'll turn out fine."

 

And so Connor, Jane and Connor’s dad, Doug, all went to meet with Connor’s teacher, Ms Cooper. Ms Cooper was one of Connor’s favourite teachers. She was short, middle aged and always made time for students who needed help.

“So, Connor’s progress seems fine, what are you concerned about in particular?”

“He seems… isolated.” Jane explained.

Connor hung his head in shame, staring at his brightly coloured sneakers.

“Well, I’m not sure I can do very much to help, but this is still a concerning matter. Why do you feel isolated, Connor?”

Connor’s head snapped up at his name, “I don’t know.” He said quietly.

“What was that, Connor?” Ms Cooper asked.

“I said, ‘I don’t know.’” Connor’s voice cracked as he tried to keep his eyes from brimming over with tears.

“Stop being such a wuss, Connor.” Doug said sharply.

“Now, now.” Ms Cooper leant over her desk, focusing her gaze on Connor, “Are you being bullied, Connor?”

“No!” He almost yelled, sitting up straight in his seat, “People just don’t like me, that’s all.”

“Do you know why that is?” Ms Cooper’s voice had softened, but her tone had grown serious.

“No.” Connor sniffed, dropping his gaze to his lap.

“Okay.” Ms Cooper sat back and turned to Connor’s parents, “I’ll talk to some of his classmates and see if any of them want to include him in their friendship groups.”

“I have a friendship group, I have Steve.” Connor protested.

“Oh yes, well I’m sure Mr Blade could benefit from having a few more friends as well.” Ms Cooper suddenly became less kind, less open, her face was now stoney.

“So you’ll talk to them?” Jane asked, “You’ll help him make more friends?” Connor couldn’t understand the desperation in her voice. Sure, he didn’t enjoy being disliked, but at least he wasn’t completely alone. Plenty of people only had one or two friends, there was nothing wrong with him. Right?

“I’ll sort something out, Connor.” Ms Cooper was kind again, almost pitying, “Things’ll get better.”

 

Things just got worse and worse.

Whatever Ms Cooper had tried to do obviously hadn’t worked. People hissed at him in the hallways, their eyes bored into him in class. Nobody invited him to join in their games, he was an outcast, hated by all. And the worst part was, he had no idea why.

"Steve?" He asked one day at lunch time. The two boys were lounging on the dry grass behind their classroom, where they had started to sit to get away from the burning glares of their classmates.

"Yeah?" Steve was occupied with his apple.

"Why don't people like me?" Because Steve never had problems. Steve was known as the smart kid, the one that got all the girls, the one that hung out with the unpopular boy.

Steve flushed red, looking away from Connor. "I'm not sure. I think it's because you're so... you know..."

"What am I?" Connor asked, twirling a long blade of grass between his fingers.

"It doesn't matter." Steve picked at his apple with a new intensity.

Connor watched him carefully, "It matters to me." He said. But it didn't. Not really. Not yet. Being an outcast was so much better than everything that was yet to come.

For now, he had Steve and the little bubble of happiness that accompanied him. And that was enough.


	2. I Once Held Your Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Connor learn that not everyone is a friend, and that sometimes you can't even trust your own parents.   
> (Content warning: Homophobic slurs, violence and general homophobia.)

Connor’s feelings for Steve would have gone almost unnoticed if it hadn’t been for the dreams.

The first few nights had confused him, but he hadn’t been worried, after all, everyone has dreams they can’t explain. It wasn’t until he awoke one night, the imaginary warmth of Steve’s lips still tingling against his skin, that he truly began to suspect something was wrong.

He was one of the smartest boys in his grade, but there was still so much he didn’t know about the world and it scared him. This fear began to eat away at him every night, gnawing at his stomach as he lay in bed, his lips forming unintelligible prayers.

Nobody told him what he was meant to be feeling, for the most part they ignored his silent pleas for help. He had to piece it together, to figure out that he and his feelings were unwelcome in the world.

All around him were happy couples. On TV shows, in books, even in advertising, it didn’t take long for him to get the hint. But he was, like all young boys, curious about the world around him, and one day plucked up the courage to ask the person he trusted most. His mother.

“Mom?” He started, his stomach churning, though he didn’t know why.

“Yes, Connor?” Jane turned around to face her son.

“I have a question and I think it’s important.” One thing Connor had been taught at Church was that honesty is the best way forward, it was better than lying anyway.

“What is it? School? Friends? Girls?” Jane poked Connor in an attempt to rise a laugh out of him.

“No, that’s the problem, Mom, I don’t want to date a girl.” Connor shuddered at the idea.

“You don’t have to date anyone, sweetie, you’re only young.”

“No, I mean, does it matter if boys like boys, or girls like girls?” Connor knew before the question had fully formed that he’d made a mistake. Jane’s face had become disfigured, monstrous, furious.

“Yes it matters! It’s unnatural” Her empty eyes bored into him, as though she could read his mind and see the sinful things he’d been dreaming about.

“But what if- what if you can’t help it? Is it wrong then?” Connor was desperate, fear was rising like vomit in his throat.

“It’s always wrong, Connor. Homosexuality is never right, no matter what the circumstances. They’re sinners, and sinners go to Hell.”

“What if someone you loved turned out to be a… homosexual?” The unfamiliar word soured Connor’s mouth. Now he had a name for his affliction.

“Then you don’t love them anymore.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Thanks, Mom. I know what to do now.” Connor choked down tears.

“You’re welcome.”

 

Connor had gone from living a life of confusion, to one of fear.

He couldn’t sleep, ever since the conversation with his mom, the dreams about Steve had all but died out. They’d been replaced with new dreams, dreams that were so much worse than anything Steve could do to him.

Recently, he’d been going to Hell every night. His mom had warned him, but he just couldn’t seem to stop the butterflies that took flight whenever he spent time with Steve.

He paid the price for it, though, and it was a terrible price. Behind closed eyes he saw all the horrors he could possibly imagine: death, fire, everything Hell should be and so much more.

Sometimes he awoke, screaming, and one of his parents came to scold him, to tell him he’d been watching too many scary movies.

“It’s your own fault.” They’d often tell him, “Why do you insist on scaring yourself so much?”

And Connor, eyes still wide with fear, would reply, “I know, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Then his mum would grumble, or his dad would sigh. Connor learnt not to cry out. He suffered for his sins in silence, tried to calm his panicked breathing and slow his too-fast heart.

 

Connor wasn’t the only one with parent troubles, Steve’s mom and dad had started discussing a divorce, which lead to the two boys being even closer than before.

One day the they were sat in Connor’s room after school under the pretense of doing homework. Really, Steve was showing Connor his new comic book.

“I wish your parents would let you collect these, Con. Look at how she knocks those guys out, BOOM!”

“They say they’re a waste of money. And they’re very violent.”

“Aw, what a load of crap.” Steve flipped the page, staring at the brightly coloured pictures.

“Steve!” Connor hissed, his head whipping towards the door.

“Sorry, sorry.” Steve smiled, “It’s a load of poop, then.”

Connor looked down to where their knees were almost touching, “I don’t want to get in trouble again.”

“You’re always in trouble, you’re parents are really strict. I mean, they won’t even let you play computer games. If we had a computer that’d be the only thing I’d use it for!”

“They tell me they’ll make me sick. They read it in a magazine.”

“Sure.”

“Anyway, what about your parents?” Connor was eager to change the subject.

“Still fighting.” Steve snapped.

“Oh.”

“Sorry, but you know I don’t like to talk about it.” Steve’s voice was rough, “I don’t make you talk about your dreams.”

“Those are different, they’re not… I can’t.” Connor stammered, taken aback by the sudden confrontation.

“I know, sorry, that was over the line.”

“It’s just, I don’t know how to talk about them.”

“How do you mean?” Steve shuffled even closer to Connor, until their elbows were knocking together.

“I mean, I think there’s something wrong with me, and if I tell anyone they’ll hate me for it. They might even want to hurt me!”

“I wouldn’t, no matter how bad it was! You’re my best buddy, I wouldn’t just ditch you for something small.” A reassuring pat on the shoulder was all Connor needed to open up and let all his fears come pouring out.

“But you know it isn’t real.” Steve reasoned soothingly, “You just feel guilty, and you still haven’t even told me why.”

“Because, I think…” Connor took a deep breath, “I think I like boys. I mean, I _like_ like them.”

“So… you’re gay?” Steve faltered, but didn’t pull away.

“Is that the same as homosexual?”

“Yes.” Having come from a more liberal family, Steve was better educated on these things, he often schooled Connor on what was right and wrong, as Connor’s knowledge was so often censored by his parents.

“Then, I guess I am gay.” The way Steve had said the word made it sound like an everyday object, the same way someone said they had red hair or blue eyes. Steve made it sound like things could be okay.

“Well, that’s not exactly something someone should hurt you for. It’s not like you can help it.” Steve considered for a moment before saying “If anyone does try to hurt you… I’ll hurt them back.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I do.” And that was Steve’s final word on the matter.

 

Steve’s promise to defend Connor became relevant more quickly than either of them expected. They’d just reached sixth grade, and the silent, judging stares of their classmates had turned into something more malicious. The harsh words that had been so carefully whispered out of earshot became louder, bolder, until they became impossible to ignore.

 

“Watch where you’re going, faggot!” A tall boy yelled one day, pushing Connor to the side.

“What did you just call him?” Steve had stopped dead in his tracks, balling his hands into fists.

“I called him a faggot, that’s what he is isn’t he?” The boy taunted, he was surrounded by his group of friends, Steve was outnumbered ten to one.

“So what if he is? Why should it bother you?”

“We don’t like it, do we?” He addressed his friends, who agreed with varying levels of enthusiasm.

“Well maybe you’re the one with the problem then.” Steve stepped forward, tensing his body.

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes.”

Throughout the exchange, Connor had been watching in horror. Steve was going to get hurt, and it was going to be all his fault, teachers didn’t care about playground fights, “Boys will be boys.” They’d say, shaking their heads fondly as they cleaned up the mess.

“Steve, stop, I don’t mind, really!” Connor started towards Steve, his outstretched hand reaching for Steve’s arm.

“You hear that, Stevie? Even he knows he’s a freak.” He turned to Connor, “Don’t you?”

Steve flew at him. It was almost surreal, how fast he moved, as though a rubber band inside him had snapped. The boy and his gang of friends fell upon him, knocking him down, drawing blood. Too much blood.

It only took them a second, but the damage was done, they left without a word, leaving Steve on the floor, a small pool of blood blossoming by his head.

“Steve!” Connor knelt by his best friend’s side, fear clawing at his stomach, “Steve, are you alright?”

“M’okay.” Steve mumbled, eyes unfocused, “I lost my first fight ever, though.”

“Steve, you’re bleeding!”

“I’m fine…” Steve paused, confusion clouding his face, “Maybe get a teacher, my head feels funny, I might be concussed.”

“I will, you shouldn’t have fought him” Connor hovered awkwardly, not wanting to leave Steve’s side, “Thank you, though.”

“Thanks for what?”

“For… speaking up, I guess. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did. They shouldn’t talk about you like that.” Steve grumbled, rubbing his head.

“Oh, I’ll go get the nurse!” Connor stood up, but was stopped by Steve’s hand in his.

“Tell him I fell, okay? I don’t want my parents to know I’ve been fighting.”

Unable to meet Steve’s eyes, Connor nodded before pulling away and heading to the nurse’s office.

 

It turned out that Steve was concussed, he had to leave class early to go to the hospital. For the remainder of the day, a heavy cloud of guilt hung over their classmates. By now, everyone knew what had happened. Nobody could look Connor in the eye for a week, not even the teachers.

Things went back to the way they were before. Connor was treated with a cold indifference, Steve was treated slightly better, but he was still an outcast. Neither of them were attacked again, though. They were safe for the rest of Middle School.

High School, however, was a horror yet to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing some of this stuff is physically painful, but I guess it's worth it in the end? Poor tiny Connor, someone just needs to give him (and Steve) a big hug and tell him he's okay. :(((  
> Also, I don't know when this is set but I'm going to say late 90s? So some of the stuff they say is going to be purposefully dated.


	3. And Love Was Not A Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's family is torn apart after his dad is arrested, but he and Connor have more pressing issues to worry about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this took a while! Sorry, I have exams this week, so I've been studying. But, it means exam season is almost over! So I'll be able to update more often now. (Also this is going to be much longer than I originally though, this fic is probably going to kill me.)  
> Anyway, this chapter isn't as heavy as the last one, but there's some implied homophobia, it's the main theme of the fic so just keep that in mind! It's probably going to get quite dark after this chapter.

Summer had always been Connor’s favourite time of year. He loved everything about it; the sweltering heat, the days spent by the beach and, most importantly, the twelve weeks off school.

The one summer that he’d always remember, however, was the summer before Freshman year. It was the summer everything changed, for better or for worse.

He and Steve had been spending as much time with each other as possible, as they were both going to different High Schools. Connor was going to a prestigious private school, whilst Steve was going to regular public school, like most people in their town.

They were almost halfway through July when it happened, the day that would start the chain of events that changed Connor’s life for good.

Together, the two of them were making their way to Steve’s house after a trip to the pool. They looked like regular fourteen year old boys, sweat-slicked hair sticking to their foreheads, eyes squinting against the glare of the sun. Steve was laughing at something Connor had said, his mouth wide open, eyes crinkling at the corners. Connor was smiling gently, his features much more composed than his friend’s. They were a strange pair, but somehow they matched each other perfectly.

 

The first sign that something was wrong should have been the police car parked outside the Blade’s house, but the two boys were so engrossed in their conversation that they were blind to the world. They walked past the car and up the small path that led to Steve’s house.

The second sign that went unnoticed was the front door; it had been left swinging on it’s hinged, creaking slowly in the summer breeze. Mr Blade never left the door open.

“There’s more crime in this town than you’d think.” He’d told Connor once, when he’d caught him staring curiously at the extra bolts that had been fixed to the door, “You can never be too careful.”

Steve didn’t even give the door a second glance before barging into the house, filling the hall with his too-loud laughter.

The third sign was the policewoman blocking the door to the kitchen.

Steve stopped dead in his tracks, frozen on the spot. He looked over his shoulder at Connor, fear showing on his face for a millisecond before he wiped any trace of emotion off his face.

“What’s going on?” He demanded, turning the the officer.

“Are you Mr Blade’s kid?”

“Yes and I’m hungry, so I’m going into the kitchen.” Steve tried to push past, but the officer was too fast.

“Sorry, kiddo, we’re conducting an investigation, it’ll only take a few more minutes.” She looked down at him with pity and opened her mouth to say something, but before she could even make a sound, she was interrupted by the kitchen door being flung open.

Two more police officers exited the kitchen, escorting Mr Blade, practically dragging him.

“Dad! Dad? What happened? What did you do?” Steve jumped forward, trying to slow the officers down, “Where are they taking you? Dad?” His voice cracked slightly and Connor, numb with shock, reached out to put a hand on Steve’s arm. Steve let him keep it there.

“Let him go Steve.” Mrs Blade said, stepping out of the kitchen, her face stoney, “He brought this upon himself.”

“You knew this was going to happen?” Steve asked, whirling around to face Mrs Blade, causing Connor to recoil and snatch his hand away, “And you just let them take him?”

“What else could I do?” Mrs Blade leant wearily against the doorframe.

“You could have told me, for a start!” Steve yelled, his voice rising in pitch. He kicked a wall again, and again, and again. His hands were balled into tight fists. He was transformed by his rage into someone Connor had never seen before, and never hoped to see again.

“Steve.” He said gently, trying to place a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Don’t _touch_ me.” Steve screamed, shoving Connor away, causing him to topple over, hitting the ground hard.

“Steve. Bedroom. Now.” Mrs Blade ordered, rushing forward to help Connor up. She reached a hand out to help him up, but he was still watching Steve, whose momentary expression of hurt had changed to one of anger as he stormed upstairs.

“Oh, I’m sorry you had to see that.” Mrs Blade said as Connor allowed himself to be fussed over, “He’ll come around. He’s just a little upset, that’s all.”

“Should I go home?”

“If you don’t mind. I think Steve needs a little bit of time to cool off.”

 

Connor went home, heart heavy with the knowledge that his and Steve’s perfect holiday had been tarnished. In fact, he didn’t speak to Steve for a week after the incident.

However, when he headed up to his room one night, he was met with a surprise. A figure, waiting in the shadows.

“Steve? What are you doing here?” Connor asked, closing the door and quickly turning on the light.

“I’m sorry I pushed you.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Connor’s eyes.”

“That’s alright. You were upset.” Quietly as he could, Connor clicked the lock on his door and made his way towards his bed, motioning for Steve to sit next to him.

“I- I’m _really_ sorry, Connor.” Steve didn’t move.

“I’ve already said, it’s fine.” The light was dim, casting shadows on Steve’s face.

“Connor, I-” He hesitated, “You know what you told me last year? About… boys?”

Connor felt a twist of fear in his gut, as though someone had stabbed him. This was what he’d always wanted, wasn’t it? He should be happy, now he had a chance. Maybe now they could be together, maybe now the dreams would stop.

But he couldn’t bring himself to be glad. All he could do was wonder if Steve suffered the way he did.

“I remember.” He eventually managed to say.

“Well…” Steve had somehow come to sit next to him, their faces were only a few inches apart, “Maybe I’m… similar.”

“Similar?”

“Maybe I like girls _and_ boys.”

So, bi?”

“I guess.” Steve smiled mischievously, “Only one way to find out!”

“What do you-” Connor was cut off when Steve leant forward and kissed him on the lips. It was a slow, gentle kiss, not passionate, but blissfully pure.

By the time Steve pulled away, Connor had begun to panic. Everything seemed too perfect, it had to be a set up, a cruel practical joke that everyone had been in on his entire life.

“That was… good.” And the fear rising from Connor’s heart was washed away with Steve’s words. Steve, who was looking as shocked as Connor felt.

“Yeah.” He agreed breathlessly.

“So, what now?”

“Well we can’t tell anyone.” Connor said, looking behind him, fear replaced with paranoia. “My parents would kill me.”

“Mine wouldn’t but, if you don’t want to tell anyone then I guess we don’t have to.” Steve said soothingly before checking his watch, “I need to be going now. My mom’ll be wondering where I am.”

“Wait, is your dad okay? What happened?” Connor grabbed Steve’s sleeve to stop him from getting up.

“I don’t know what he did, mom won’t tell me, I think it was something to do with his taxes though.”

“Tax evasion?”

“I’m not supposed to talk about it.” Steve shook Connor’s hand away, and stood up, “I’ll come over tomorrow, okay?”

Standing up, Connor searched Steve’s eyes, “You promise? You won’t run away, or tell anyone?”

“I promise. Nothing bad’s going to happen. We’re fine.”

Connor leant in for one last kiss, and then Steve was gone, out of the window and into the night.

 

The next morning, at breakfast, Connor mentioned that he and Steve would probably be spending the day together. Both his mother and his father had reservations about it.

“Mr Blade is a criminal, son.” Doug said gravely from behind his newspaper, “We don’t want you hanging around the wrong crowd.”

“But I won’t be seeing Mr Blade, I’ll be seeing _Steve!_ ” Connor protested, pushing away his still-full plate, “And he’s my best friend.”

“We said no, sweetie. You’ll meet new friends when you go to your new school anyway.” Jane cut in.

“Well, can I at least call him to tell him.” Connor pleaded.

“Go right ahead.”

Without a second thought, Connor dashed to the phone, taking it up to his room to break the news.

 

“I just don’t understand.” Steve moaned over the line, “Why don’t they like me?”

“It’s not you, it’s your family. And we can still meet, but we just can’t tell anyone. It’s just one more secret.”

“So, shall I come over like I did yesterday?”

“No!” Connor looked towards his door, paranoid even though it was still obviously locked, “We could meet at the park?”

“It’s a date.”

“I guess it is.”

“I’ll race you there!” Steve slammed the phone down without hanging up, a bad habit Connor had always tried to break in him. He didn’t mind so much anymore.

 

And that’s how the next year went, all through their separate Freshman years. Secret meetings, sneaking out at midnight just to catch a glimpse of each other.

Steve made new friends, Connor didn’t make any. Steve joined the soccer team, Connor studied in his room. Steve slept well at night, Connor still had dark circles under his eyes as big as bruises.

They could have gone on like that forever, lying under the stars in a deserted field by night, sometimes staying long enough to glimpse the sunrise before heading home. They could have made it if Jane hadn’t been so observant.

Connor hadn’t counted on his mother reading his diary, but he’d encrypted it, just in case. He also hadn’t counted on her breaking his code, or following him when he snuck out one night, treading softly like a vengeful ghost.

On that particular night Connor had left early, before his parents had gone to bed. It was almost summer again, they’d been meeting for almost a year and they were getting confident. Later he’d think that if he’d just waited an extra hour, maybe they wouldn’t have been caught, maybe things would have turned out different.

“Steve?” He whispered, standing in the middle of their arranged meeting spot. It was his favourite spot, perfect for watch the sunset.

“Over here.” Steve stepped out of the shadows, still carrying his school bag.

“Haven’t you been home?”

“I’m kind of behind on homework, I was hoping you could help me?”

“Of course, what is it?”

This was how their conversations usually went, they were still best friends, in a way. Sometimes they’d spend the entire night coming up with wild escape plans, stories of how they’d run away together once they graduated, stories that they knew could never really happen.

Tonight, though, they decided to stay grounded with reality. They discussed school and, as many couples do, they spent most of their time nestling into each other, stealing the occasional kiss.

Jane had been hiding for the first half hour of this, watching in horror as her son partook in what she believed to be deadly sins. She’d always had suspicions, but she’d never truly imagined that her son, her own son could be this way.

Finally, when she could stand it no longer, she emerged from her hiding spot and loomed over the two boys. Their expressions of fear were so exaggerated that, in another situation, they could have almost been comical.

“Connor.” Jane said, looking down at her son in disgust, “You’re coming with me. Now.” And with that, she stormed off, trusting he’d follow her.

Connor had never been this scared before, it was as though someone had flipped the world upside down, his heart was in his mouth, and his tongue had disappeared down his throat.

He looked back, hoping to catch a glimpse of Steve, who was still sat in shock, a workbook on his knee, hand open from where Connor had wrenched his away.

That was the last time he ever saw Steve Blade.

 

 


End file.
